Day 265 or Lessons I Learned on a Mexican Cruise, Pt.2

So, I return to the lessons learned on the sails (well, steam) of a Carnival ship and the shores of Mexico.

First, I learned that there is a place away from my own refrigerator wherein I can eat 24/7. Seriously. To begin, there are the restaurants -- they serve coursed meals three times a day. Reasonable enough, right? Then there are the buffets. These are open almost without break from 6:00 am until 1:00 am. They offer hamburgers, hot dogs, and fries, yes. Pizza and deli around the clock, as well. Soft serve ice cream? Of course. But that isn't everything. They make fresh Mongolian (or Szechuan or Thai) stir fry to order. There are even a few hours that sushi s available. And midnight buffets included Mexican. (I know. I know. As much as I love, Love, LOVE Mexican food, I did not partake in the "Midnight" variety.)

But you still haven't reached twenty-four hours, Traci. Too true. That's because I did not mention Room Service. Yes. In case, you feel that your gastro-related needs have not been met in the 19 hours already covered or you simply have no desire to partake of the sun and sea offered by the boat, it can be brought to you. By very attractive people no less.

Alcohol is equally available (and almost as readily consumed). That is if you are comfortable drinking away your children's college fund. Which evidently I was because I drank more in those five days then in the five months preceding. Of course, I would have to have a college fund to drink it away... but let's move on, shall we? (No judging. Okay. Judge. Can't blame you.)

I drank fruity drinks. I drank wine. I drank sodas spiked with rum smuggled onto the boat. We did it in a very clever way that I am dying to share but I was sworn to silence lest my 15 daily readers include a random cruise executive and ruin our future opportunities. If, however, you can prove your non-cruise employment status and want a hint, write me directly. Until then, I stand under the Cone of Silence.

Next, I will tell you something that had me cracking up when I first entered my room. To save money, we had an internal room. No biggie -- we were only in the room long enough to sleep and/or shower. But despite our internal room status, I walked into a room with a window. That's right, ladies and gentlemen. They had a fake window. A large 3 x 4 inset with a curtain. Cracked me up! It evidently helps with claustrophobia. Funnier, however, is that over the days, I would forget that it wasn't real and lift the curtain.

And that's what I'll close with because my mind is on sleep. These internal rooms get completely dark. There is just the slightest line of light at the crack of the door. Otherwise, ZERO light. And here's my lesson. I can sleep. When the sun does not peek through at dawn (and there are no children's elbows in my ribs, or husband snoring, or... I mean when there is no light), I can sleep hard. And beautifully. But now I am slurring my typing and about to fall asleep at my keyboard, so I will stop here so that I may begin a less stellar night of sleep.

Notes from the men of Cozumel still to come -- including the man they call "Nacho", otherwise known as the Captain Jack Sparrow of the Southern Gulf.